


Blood is Thicker than Water

by ReplacementRobin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe
Genre: Angst, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Tim Drake, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tags Are Hard, Temporary Character Death, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake's Guardian Angel sucks at her job, Tim Drake-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23821936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReplacementRobin/pseuds/ReplacementRobin
Summary: "You are not family" is the last thing Tim hears before the screech of the flatline fills the room, indicating the stopping of his heart.orWhen the Batcave doesn't have any blood bags that are Tim's type, bad things happen. Now he has a choice to make, it's quite literally life or death.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 41
Kudos: 741





	Blood is Thicker than Water

Tim tries to keep his breathing calm and even, a difficult task when he’s currently bleeding out from a large gash across his torso. One of Two Face's goons got in a lucky shot - or should he stay stab - when Tim had been distracted trying to get a group of civilians away from the fight.

He’s only barely managed to get to a vacant alley and comm for backup when he collapses, passing out. He wakes up again to the agonizing pain of Dick picking him up and putting him in the batmobile, he’s holding a towel, that is rapidly turning red, to the wound. The drive back to the cave is a blur, Tim desperately trying to cling to consciousness.

The struggle seems to be for nothing, when they arrive at the medbay to discover they don’t have any blood bags matching Tim’s type. Tim is going to have to hang on until Bruce can return with the correct ones from Leslie’s Clinic.

“The reason they don’t have your blood type is because you aren’t welcome here, Drake. You are not family, merely a hindrance that we shall soon be rid of,” Damian says haughtily as he glares at Tim who is lying on one of the medical cots.

Usually Tim would have a retort ready, a barb to return so he can hide and deflect the way Damian’s words hurt him, but he’s so tired. Tired of having to try to prove that he belongs. Maybe Damian is right. Maybe it would be better if he was gone, if they didn’t have to deal with the annoying next door neighbour anymore. He’d been a fool to think they would ever want him. Jason had known he wasn’t worthy of Robin. In the end so did Dick, although he took longer to realize, but when he did he ripped it away and gave it to the Demon brat, to the blood son.

Everything starts to go hazy, black creeping into the edges of his vision, he doesn't fight it as it consumes him and drags him under, the screeching of the heart monitors, the last thing he hears.

___

  
  


The first thing he’s aware of is the pain, or rather the lack of. Only after that he notices his surroundings. He’s standing in an empty white room, although the walls seem to be glowing a soft gold. There’s a large window in front of him and he finds himself staring over open fields that stretch to the horizon, the grass is tall and golden, moving in the breeze as if it were waves.

Tim spins around when he hears a previously unnoticed door open behind him and watches as a woman walks in. She’s dressed in all white, draped in silky fabrics that trail behind her as she walks. As Tim looks at her the word ‘ethereal’ comes to mind.

“It’s beautiful,” the woman says nodding to the window, her voice is soft and mellifluous. Tim nods, unsure how else to reply.

She walks towards him, her pace so smooth it looks like she’s gliding. She comes to a stop next to him and stares out at the scenic view. 

They stand there for an indiscernible amount of time before Tim breaks the silence, “Where am I?”

“You know where we are,” She replies in her melodic voice.

“Am I dead?” His voice is almost a whisper.

“For now.”

Tim’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “For now?”

  
  
“You’ve been given a choice, Timothy, one that not many get to make.”

  
  
“What choice?” He asks, not sure if he wants the answer.

  
  
“You can choose to go back, or you can choose to stay.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, apprehension replaced with confusion.

“You don’t have to stay here, you can go back, your heart can start again and your lungs can fill with oxygen once more. You can continue to live, Timothy.”

  
“What’s the other choice?”

  
“You can stay, stay here and never hurt again, stay and be at peace.”

  
Tim stays silent, the weight of the decision presented before him is monumentous.

“Why are you letting me choose?”

“You’ve lived a hard life, Timothy. You have felt more pain in your few years than many feel in their entire lifetime. You’ve been hurt in so many ways, faced betrayal and loss few can understand, and yet you have continued to fight and protect. She admires that. You have earned the right to rest, to be at peace.” The woman pauses for a moment, “But She also knows that you have more to offer, that you have things you still want to do. She will not make you stay here if you do not wish to.”

  
  
“She?” Tim asks, but the woman does not reply, merely smiling at him.

  
  
“Would you like to see your body, Timothy?”

  
  
He’s scared to say yes. Scared of what he’ll find, but he knows he needs to see before he can make his decision, so he nods silently.

She flicks her fingers and the scene behind the window changes, he’s looking at himself as though from an observation deck. He looks awful, deathly pale - now there’s a joke - and covered in blood, it’s soaked through his uniform and pooling around him. A smudge is smeared across one cheek in a perverted mockery of a blush, but it’s not his body that has his attention, rather the scene unfolding around it.

  
  
Damian is standing the furthest away, his face contorted in horror, eyes wide. 

Closer is Dick, he’s shouting words Tim can’t hear. He and Alfred are frantically pulling out a defibrillator, an IV stand is already set up but unused next to him -blood isn’t much use without a heart to pump it- Dick hands the paddles to Bruce, the person standing closest to him.

The man who he so desperately wanted to be his father, but was never sure if he wanted Tim to be his son in return. Bruce charges the paddles up quickly, his uniform has been cut open and once all hands are removed from him the paddles are pushed to his chest, the EKG jumps, but his heart does not start again, they make it higher and try again, but still nothing changes.

This process goes on multiple more times, but eventually Alfred lays a hand on Bruce's shoulder and says words that have the man slumping over. The moment Alfred takes the paddles Bruce falls to his knees, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Dick has rushed to Tim’s side, large tan hands cupping Tim’s pale face, he’s saying something that Tim cannot hear, tears streaming down his face

“Stop,” Tim says, and instantly the image is gone, replaced with the rolling fields.

“Have you seen what you needed?” She asks, Tim nods, unable to speak, “Have you made your decision then?”

“Yes,” he says, voice barely a whisper and then repeats louder, voice filled with conviction, “Yes. I’ve made my choice.”

  
  
She smiles at him looking almost fond, “What have you decided?”  
  


“I- I need to go back. I’m not ready to leave.” 

She nods and walks so she’s standing in front of him. She lifts a hand and places it on his cheek, her skin is soft and smooth and where she touches tingles with warmth, “Goodbye, Timothy, until we meet again.”

“Wait!” He exclaims as he feels the warmth spread over his entire body, “Who are you?”

  
  
The woman laughs and smiles brightly, “I’m your guardian angel.” 

___

  
  


Waking up the second time is immeasurably less pleasant than the first, for one everything hurts, his muscles ache and he feels as if he’s been hit by a truck. His eyes flutter open and instead of a wide open field it is the creamy white of his room at the manors ceiling. 

A medical bed has been moved into the room and he’s currently hooked up to an IV. Somebody is holding his hand, and when he turns he sees Bruce clasping his hand as he sleeps with his head rested on the bed next to him. There is a heavy weight across his legs, and the source is a sleeping Dick. He even sees Damian - much to his shock - sitting in the armchair at the corner of the room.

He groans in pain as the movement pulls what must be stitches across his abdomen, the noise waking all the highly trained vigilantes in the room. Damian sits up straighter in his chair and Dick is moving up the bed to hold Tim’s free hand.

“Tim?” Bruce says, voice filled with relief.

“Bruce?” Tim croaks back, his throat feels like he hasn’t spoken in days.

“I’m here, it’s alright.” He says squeezing Tim’s hand tighter.

“What happened?” Tim felt very disorientated, he couldn’t quite get his bearings just yet.

“You died Tim! Your heart stopped for _two minutes_ and we couldn’t bring you back. Then- then it just… started beating again” Dick exclaims from Tim’s other side, completely ignoring his uncharacteristic stutter. He’s twitching like he can barely restrain himself from giving Tim a hug, the only thing stopping him are his injuries.  
  
Tim is silent for a moment thinking about the woman who had called herself his guardian angel, “I need to talk to Jason,” Tim says, if what he remembers really happened, Jason might be able to help...

Everyone looks baffled, “Tim, you just nearly _died._ Why the hell do you need to talk to Jason?” Dick asks frowning.

“Clearly his time while dead has resulted in brain damage,” Damian says from where he’s sitting, although it sounds remarkably less vicious than usual.

Tim just rolls his eyes ignoring him, a sure way to wind the kid up. He knows he’s right when he hears him huff irritably, “I just need to talk to him okay,” Tim shifts trying to sit up and immediately falls back down with a pained gasp at the overwhelming pain.

“Jason can wait,” Bruce says softly, “For now you just need to rest.”

  
  
Tim wants to argue, but he can already feel drowsiness tugging at his eyelids. so instead he nods and lets himself drift off to sleep

He wakes briefly to Alfred changing the IV. Bruce is still with him although Dick and Damian have left. He falls asleep again moments later.

When he awakes again Bruce has left, but he’s not alone. Jason is lounging in the armchair reading what looks like Wuthering Heights. He looks up from the book, sensing he’s being watched, “Heard you’ve been asking for me,” He says putting the book down.

  
  
“What happened when you died?” He asks with no preamble.

  
  
Jason looks stunned by the question, but then he begins to frown “You wanna hear about how I kicked the bucket? What, wanna bond over the tranquility of gruesomeness? Or are you gonna turn this into a competition? ”

  
  
“Not the how you died,” he says rolling his eyes at Jason’s prickly demeanour “Where you were when you were dead”

  
  
Jason’s face goes back to shocked, “Why do you want to know?”

  
  
“I think…” Tim chews at his lip, “I think I went to heaven, or something.”

  
  
Jason takes a deep breath as if readying himself for something challenging, “The bomb went off, and then I was in a room with a window, there was a woman there, she told me I was safe now.” Jason stares down at his hands.

Tim nods, shocked at the similarities. “And when you came back?”

  
  
Jason visibly flinches, “She told me I had to go back, that I couldn’t stay yet, and then I was being dragged out of that godforsaken hot tub.”

  
  
“Did she- did she call herself your guardian angel?” Tim asks, and Jason looks up shocked giving him a nod, “Something… similar happened to me, but she gave me a choice. Asked if I wanted to come back.”

  
  
“Why did you?” Jason asks.

  
  
Tim shrugs, pleased to note that it doesn’t hurt as much as it did when he first woke up, “There are still things I have to do, I’m not ready for it to be over yet.”  
  


Jason nods, ”Good, I don’t need you trying to steal my dead Robin schtick.”

  
  
Tim huffs amused “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  
  
And, if as he begins slipping back into sleep and Jason has left, he thinks he sees a golden tinged woman sitting at the end of his bed with a warm smile, well nobody needs to know.

**Author's Note:**

> When I thought about the first FanFic I'd post on AO3... this was definitely not what I expected 
> 
> *Gets out paper with Oscar speech*
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful betas, TatsuChan and Liv, both of whom don't even know who Tim Drake is but helped anyway. And an extra thank you to TC who kept me on track and has been there every step of the way. From making this story consist of more than just commas, to listening to my 3 AM raving, love you B <3 (She even edited this bit lol)
> 
> I would deeply appreciate it if you chose to leave a Kudos or Comment :)


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